It is
by AMiserableLove
Summary: Smutty drabble. It's getting harder and harder for her to deny exactly what's between them. It was supposed to be just sex. But it's more. So much more.


**A friend on tumblr asked for a smutty drabble earlier today and so I complied...I wanted to cheer her up ;) **

**Anywho, I received a message asking me to post it here so here ya go! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own OUAT.**

**Enjoy!**

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It shouldn't be like this.

But it is.

_The anticipation laced fear that nearly consumes her every time she finds herself alone with him._

Closing her eyes, she feels the bed dip down as he lowers himself to the mattress, the heat of his body quickly warming hers as he moves closer to her—the smell of the sea masked only by the vaguest hint of rum invading her senses as he draws even nearer. Involuntarily she holds her breath, her entire posture going rigid and her fingers grasping at the bunched up sheets beneath her as the cool feel of metal suddenly makes itself known against her flushed and tingling skin. Slowly, leisurely, he trails it up her bare arm, a path of goosebumps rising in its wake as a shudder ripples through her, leaving her slightly breathless and wishing for _more._

It shouldn't be like this.

But it is.

_Her nerves practically sparking and bursting into flames at every light and barely there touch._

She had stupidly thought she'd just needed to get him out of her system; a quick fuck after Neverland and she'd say goodbye to him and send him on his way—an emotionless ritual she'd honed and practiced well enough in the past.

It was effective.

_Safe._

But no, _ohhh no,_ he had had other plans for her.

He had no intention of letting her go.

And he had told her as much, whispering it into her ear the first time he had taken her hard against the wall of his cabin, his lilting voice wrapping itself around her as he had thrust into her almost brutally—branding her and claiming her, making her his, and ruining her for anyone else.

And goddamn it…it shouldn't be like this.

But it is.

_Her emotions a jumbled and confusing mess, the feelings only intensifying with each passionate and desperate encounter._

Her breath hitches as his hook stops at the waistband of her pants, a puff of air whooshing out of her lungs as he pulls them down deliberately slow; the sound of a dark and amused chuckle just barely reaching her buzzing ears when she lifts her hips unthinkingly.

He's a cocky and arrogant bastard.

Ignoring the laugh, her fingers twitch in the sheets again and she draws her lower lip into her mouth, chewing on it lightly as she feels him abruptly shift above her; the pulsing and hot feel of his arousal settling on her inner thigh nearly ripping a needy moan from her suddenly too narrow throat.

Eyes still closed and breathing still uneven, she tenses as his hook begins to travel across her quivering stomach brushing the skin gently and moving lower still. Its destination obvious, she bites the inside of her cheek as it comes to a rest above her aching and wet center—the metal appendage teasing her lightly as his length pushes against her tauntingly.

She wants to curse him.

She wants to hit him and kick him and scream and cry foul.

Because it's not supposed to be like this.

But it is.

Oh god it is.

_She hungers for him, she's desperate for him; she craves him like an intoxicating drug, and she needs him like a starved addict._

"Emma." His voice whispers across her face, his tone low and musical and enticing. "Look at me…I want to watch… " he pauses, his words lingering; she can feel him bracing himself on his good arm, the weight of his body hovering. "I want you to watch darling."

Her entire form stiffening, her skin suddenly flaming, she lifts her eyes slowly; her hazy and fogged vision meeting clear and unwavering blue. And there, simmering in his endless stare, she sees the obvious challenge gleaming almost teasingly—the glimmer of defiance unmistakable.

He knows.

And she can practically hear him mock her internal struggle.

Realizing that she's been silent for far too long, save for the soft pants and strangled and stifled moans that have been struggling to escape her, she opens her mouth, intent on throwing some sharp retort at him.

After all, she hates giving him the upper hand.

She hates that he's aware of how much he affects her.

So she _means_ to shoot some smart quip at him, a clever remark on the tip of her tongue, but all too suddenly she's got metal against her skin again, and he's pushing himself inside of her, stretching and filling her and all coherent thoughts flee her already cluttered brain.

She whimpers, _actually whimpers—_completely needy and wanton and desperate_—_and it's followed only by a long and low moan as he begins to move; his brow furrowed in concentration and his lips twitching into a knowing smirk.

She wants to smack it off of him.

But first, _first_ she wants to continue fucking him.

Because she knows it's not supposed to be like this.

_Unspoken feelings, passionate embraces, unwavering understanding. _

She's the sheriff and he's a thief.

She's a princess and he's a pirate.

She's the savior and he's the villain.

It's wrong.

_She knows this._

She's all too aware of it.

But no matter how many times she's with him, her desire never fades, her hunger never satisfies.

And as he shifts inside of her, the new angle bringing a surprised gasp tumbling from her lips, she blocks out the voices in her head that are shouting at her—screaming and yelling and warning her that she's in too deep.

It's no longer just sex and release.

_It's more. _

But instead of focusing on the unwanted, frightening and shocking, she gives herself over to her senses. She concentrates on the way he's moving inside of her, stoking the sparks that are threatening to burst into flames and consume her very soul. She pays attention to the look on his face, the pained tinged pleasure that crosses his too dark and too attractive features as he grunts and groans above her. She listens to the sounds of their bodies coming together, slapping against each other erotically—their actions becoming less fluid and more frenzied with each frantic thrust. And she takes careful note of the gleam in his eyes, the spark of something new and terrifying, something awe-inspiring, and utterly frightening.

And as the hot licks of pleasure begin to burn within her, as he continues to stroke her from the inside out, as her body begins to tremble with almost violent need, as she hears the faint sound of her voice murmuring his name over and over and over again as waves of ecstasy roll over her…

She revels in the fact that yes, it shouldn't be like this.

It was never supposed to be like this.

_But it is._

**END.**

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**So yeah, there you have it...just a little drabble I wrote for a friend. Hope you enjoyed.  
**

**Review?**


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